I'll Take Care of You
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: "You're not, you're cold as ice. Please Magica, let me help you." Please wasn't a word that often escaped Scrooge, but he wasn't above begging at this point. Her head snapped to face him, apparently shocked at the phrase. He gave her a gentle smile, the look promising only good intentions, and she sighed. "Okay," she whispered, tired of the argument and the cold.


**AN: So, I've been reading all of Monkey-Li's Dimeshipping stories, and they are so cute. This one shot is based off her story "Let me Show You", specifically chapter one, as well as the comic "Silent Night". **

The night was quiet, save for the wind through the trees that caused the gently falling snow to swirl. Everyone else had retired for the night save Scrooge, working as always, but he enjoyed the peace. There was something about the dead of night that was so calming, it soothed his nerves and increased his productivity tenfold, which was often why he toiled so late against his family's wishes.

He glanced up as the clock struck one, deciding that was enough for the night. Absently as he shuffled and put away papers, he wondered when the peace would come to an end. There hadn't been any attempts to steal his dime for several days, and truth be told he was growing bored without constantly having to fend off an enemy. If this kept up he'd almost pay one of them to attack, almost. Switching off the library light, he began the trek to his bedroom, not in any particular hurry, and looked out the windows as he passed. He had almost reached his room when a light flicked on outside, illuminating the backyard, and a dark figure within it.

Scrooge felt his heart leap in joy. Finally! A closer glance revealed it to be Magica at it again, and with a fond smile he calmly retrieved the shotgun and loaded it with garlic. As he made his way to the back door he hoped it would be a lengthy challenge to make up for the days she had been absent. He would never admit it to another soul, but he cared about the sneaky witch, more than he probably should considering all the grief she brought into his life, but one can't control their heart.

* * *

Magica chuckled quietly as she tiptoed through the snow, ignoring the cold and focusing on the light in what she knew to be the study. Soon she knew Scrooge would head to bed, and then the dime would be hers for the taking. Closer and closer she crept, even going so far as to sink into the snow as she got closer to the mansion. It wouldn't do for her to be seen now, and with her black dress she stood out against the snow like a beacon. Motion caught her eye up above, and she grinned happily as the light to the library flicked out.

She crawled faster, ignoring the snow and how it was seeping into her dress and soaking her skin. That didn't matter, not when she was so close to her goal. She had almost reached the door, and having not been ambushed yet, deemed it safe enough to stand up. Of course, that was when the lights flashed on, blinding her. She barely made out the door opening and Scrooge stepping out, shotgun pointed at her and no doubt loaded.

"Magica! Caught again. You'll never get my dime, haven't you realized that by now?" Scrooge asked, making his way toward her but keeping the gun elevated and aimed should she try something.

Magica scowled. All her plotting down the drain, and this time she hadn't even come near the stupid thing! It was just her luck to be caught before she could even attempt to steal it.

"I will have it sooner or later, Scrooge! Preferably sooner if I have my way!" she snapped.

He only sighed, lowering the shotgun once he realized she didn't have any tricks up her sleeve.

"What are you even doing out here at this time of night anyway?" He took in her dress, soaked and dirty, and lack of coat or scarf. His gaze softened, worry for her filling his mind. "Aren't you cold?"

Magica blinked, thrown by the change in attitude.

"I knew you'd be up late working and soon leave the dime unattended to sleep. I thought it would be the best time to steal it. And no, I am not cold!"

She wrapped her arms around her waist, attempting to look angry, but Scrooge knew she was bluffing. He stepped forward, touching her hand lightly.

"You're freezing. Go on home and we'll call it over with for now. Don't need you getting sick and becoming even more of a nuisance than usual."

He had no doubt that with her stubborn streak she'd continue to come after the dime, healthy or not. He admired her drive and passion, but he also knew it was a hindrance. They were so similar, and most of the time that was a bad thing, but in this instance he was thankful for it.

"I don't need your sympathy, I can take care of myself!" Magica said, faux anger coating her words.

Really she was touched that he was so concerned for her, but she wasn't about to be seen as weak, no matter how much she trusted him. (Not to mention the times they had saved each other and fallen apart together, but for the moment she was content to ignore those memories). Frustration was an easy emotion to harness, and it was that she kept fronting with, hoping to get him to leave her alone.

"I know, but you're shivering. If you're not careful you'll catch a cold."

She hadn't even noticed she was shaking, too distracted by his gentle attitude and the feelings it caused within her.

"I'm fine," she said, but the words came out with less conviction than she had intended, and she glanced away.

Scrooge sighed. It seemed her stubbornness wasn't going to vanish anytime soon, and it was getting late. A gust of wind soared across them, and he cringed, reminded of why he wanted her to leave in the first place.

"If you're sure," he said, turning to head inside. "Goodnight, Magica."

She watched him walk away, only half pleased he'd left her alone. She sighed, turning to leave as well. Admittedly her plan hadn't been one of her best or most thought out, but lately it seemed as though she was running out of ideas, so she'd run with it. She wished now she'd taken the time to think it through, perhaps planned for the weather in Duckburg before flying in at breakneck speeds without so much as a scarf. Not to mention how long she'd been waiting outside the mansion. She shivered again, cringing at the strength of the chills. Scrooge was right, if she didn't get out of the cold soon she was sure to get sick.

She had only taken a few steps when a sneeze slipped out, startling her. She sniffed, blinking in surprise. Scrooge, almost to his door, paused when he heard the sound. He turned, eyes locking on the woman several feet away hunched over on herself. He sighed, wondering not for the first time why he cared so much for her. She sneezed again, shivering still, and he couldn't help but go to her.

Magica still hadn't moved after the second sneeze, still shocked, when she heard footsteps approaching. She stiffened, embarrassed at her vulnerability and that perhaps he had been right. She didn't turn even as the footsteps came to a halt right behind her, refusing to let him see her in such a state.

They stood in silence for a bit, Scrooge unsure of how to approach the situation and Magica too stubborn to face him. Eventually he sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Come inside, some dry clothes and tea will do you good."

"I'm fine," she insisted again, though she desperately wanted to accept his invitation.

Another sneeze escaped, rocking her entire body, but his hand held firm on her shoulder.

"You're not, you're cold as ice. Please Magica, let me help you."

Please wasn't a word that often escaped Scrooge, but he wasn't above begging at this point. Her head snapped to face him, apparently shocked at the phrase. He gave her a gentle smile, the look promising only good intentions, and she sighed.

"Okay," she whispered, tired of the argument and the cold.

He blinked, surprised she had given in so easily, but smiled quickly. He offered her his arm as he had so many times in the past and she took it, curling herself as close as she could without actually tucking against him. Sympathy flooded him then, and without thinking he disentangled his arm from her grip and wrapped it around her waist. She tensed, and it was then he realized what he'd done. He opened his beak to apologize, but was shocked when she not only didn't yell at him but accepted the gesture and tucked herself against his side.

He winced as her cold skin pressed against his and quickened their pace, ushering her into the mansion without further delay. As he snapped the door shut against the snow, Magica felt anxiousness consume her. She'd been in the mansion a number of times, but never as a guest before, and never entirely alone with Scrooge.

"Wait here," he told her, quickly grasping her hand before slipping away to knock on one of the many doors lining the hall.

She did as asked, mindful that at any moment she could be kicked out. Chills still made their way up her spine, causing her to tremble, and the warm air almost hurt her frigid skin. She noticed his housekeeper pop out of the room he had approached, but tuned out their conversation, eyes glancing around the interior. It was pretty, expertly decorated as she'd suspected, and screamed wealth. She sneezed again, irritated at herself, and continued to look around.

…**.**

"Sorry to wake you, Bentina," Scrooge apologized as Mrs. Beakley answered his knocking.

"It's alright Mr. McDuck, what can I do for you?" she asked with a yawn.

"It's a bit of a long story, but the short of it is I caught Magica trying to steal my dime again. She was soaked and freezing from the snow, and I suspect not entirely well either. I invited her inside, and I was wondering if you might prepare a guest room for her and perhaps find her something dry to wear?"

"Are you sure, Mr. McDuck? After all the trouble she's caused?" she asked, eyes darting to the witch who admittedly did look worse for the wear.

"I could nae leave her out there to freeze," he said, his own gaze following hers.

He frowned as she sneezed yet again, and even Mrs. Beakley felt some sympathy for the woman. She sighed, rubbing the bridge between her eyes.

"All right, sir, I trust you. You've always known when to befriend her before."

"Thank you, Bentina," he said with a smile, turning to return to the woman.

"Oh, sir?" He paused, looking back at her. "While I'm preparing the room you may want to get something warm into her. There's tea and honey in the pantry, and leftover soup from dinner in the fridge if she'll take it."

He smiled, tipping his head in acknowledgment before continuing on. Magica snapped out of her daze when Scrooge returned to her side, nerves rising as she was unsure of the outcome of his conversation. He only gave her another soft smile before reaching for her again, beginning to guide her to the kitchen.

"I know you want to get out of that dress and into something dry, but I think first some tea will help," he explained. "If you're hungry there's also some soup."

"I, um, thank you," she whispered, still amazed that he was being so kind.

"You're welcome, my dear," he answered, patting her hand affectionately.

She blushed, eyes darting away. She didn't dare look at him again until she was settled at the long table and he was pressing a warm mug into her hands. He sat across from her holding his own mug, and she couldn't help but notice the domesticity of the situation. She took a sip of her tea to calm her nerves, smiling when she noticed the flavor. Scrooge watched her, heart skipping a beat at the soft look filling her features. She was beautiful.

He let her drink in silence for a few minutes, contemplating on the situation at hand before deciding to ask why exactly she'd followed through on such a lousy scheme.

"Magica, why didn't you try and come into the library itself? Or sneak into the house?"

She sighed, reluctantly putting down her mug.

"I admit I didn't think everything through as I usually do. I guess I thought you'd perhaps installed a witch deflector here as well as your money bin."

"No, not here," he said, but didn't elaborate. The truth was he didn't mind her occasional harebrained schemes bringing her to the manor, sometimes enjoyed them. "And how long were you lurking about before I found you?"

"Long enough," she shrugged, unwilling to admit it had been close to an hour.

He hummed, knowing when to let the topic rest. She sniffled, desperately trying not to sneeze again, but to no avail, and launched into a fit. Scrooge winced, reaching into his inner pocket for his handkerchief and offering it to her when she was finished. She took it with a sniff and a thank you, doing her best to eliminate the itching in her beak.

"I think you're coming down with something," he murmured quietly, worry growing stronger.

"Most likely," Mrs. Beakely's voice rang from the doorway, causing them both to jump. She'd been observing them silently for a bit, curious if her suspicions were true, and it appeared they were. Scrooge was in love with the witch, that much was certain, but she couldn't yet tell if the feelings were mutual. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

She entered the room fully, frowning at the witch's appearance. She may not be terribly fond of her, but she also didn't like to see anyone suffer. Magica was still trembling, and she could also see the beginning of dark circles under her eyes, not to mention the paleness of her face. She wondered if Scrooge could see those things too, oblivious as he could sometimes be. She approached her, noting how she tensed up and looked to Scrooge in fear.

"Easy now, I may not like you but I won't hurt you," Mrs. Beakley said, relieved to see her relax just a fraction. "I've got a guest room ready for you, and there's a gown in there that will hopefully fit."

"Thank you," Magica whispered, overwhelmed at the kindness being shown to her.

"You're welcome. There's also some towels in the en-suite should you want to shower. It might warm you up a bit more."

"Thank you, Bentina. I'll take it from here," Scrooge said, rising to show Magica to her room.

She nodded, stepping to the side to let them pass, but grabbing his arm as he went by. Magica stopped, confused and a little afraid, but he motioned her on.

"Go on ahead, I'm sure you know where my room is, wait for me outside." As soon as she was out of earshot he faced the older woman. "Is something wrong?"

"No, but she already looks miserable, and I bet she won't admit it for a long while yet. While you're getting her settled I'll make her another cup of tea, but I'm going to add some medicine to it to help her sleep and hopefully feel better."

"Thank you, really," he said, clasping her hand in his. "I know you don't understand why I'm helping her—"

"Oh I think I do. Now go to her, she's probably a little overwhelmed at the moment."

* * *

Magica huddled outside Scrooge's bedroom as he'd asked, wishing he would hurry up. She was freezing, the warmth that had coursed through her in the kitchen gone, and exhaustion was beginning to catch up to her. She sneezed again, for what seemed like the millionth time, and groaned. She cursed herself for her idiocy, wishing she'd stayed put in her hut instead of flying into Duckburg.

Not only was she sick and cold, but now she was being forced to think about how she felt about Scrooge. He'd been so kind to her already, and it was stirring up feelings she'd long since attempted to bury. So maybe she also cared for the old cheapskate, maybe even liked him a lot. She blushed again as she remembered his gentle touches from earlier. She snapped out of her thoughts as she heard her name being called by the very duck she'd been thinking of.

"Are you all right?" Scrooge asked, concerned it had taken so long to get her attention. "You're trembling."

"I'm cold," she admitted, "and exhausted."

"I can imagine. Come, Mrs. Beakley said your room is next to mine. I'd have told you had I known."

He led her inside the room to the left, the size of it staggering to her. The bed alone was three times as large as her own, and the sheer size was astonishing. Her mouth fell open, she couldn't help it, and Scrooge grinned at her reaction.

"It...it's so big," she said, turning in place to see it all.

"You get used to it," he said, guiding her to the bed where a gown was waiting as promised. "I'll let you change while I light a fire."

She watched him start to work, only snapping out of it when a particularly strong chill shook her body. She wasted no time in stripping her wet things off, placing them inside the bathroom so as not to ruin the floor. The nightgown was a little large on her petite frame, but soft and warm, and that was all that mattered to her. A soft glow covered the room as the fireplace sprang to life, and she smiled, the scene cozy.

"Sit with me?" Scrooge asked, beckoning her to the loveseat positioned in front of the fire.

The warmth called to her, and without argument she settled by his side, only slightly surprised when a warm blanket settled around her shoulders. She pulled it tight around her body, tucking herself into a little cocoon and causing the man beside her to laugh.

"What?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Nothing, nothing at all," he answered, hands up in a placating gesture.

She was adorable, but he would never admit it for fear of bodily harm. She huffed at him, turning back to face the flames. The silence stretched between them, surprisingly comfortable, and she couldn't help but sneak glances his way. He seemed completely relaxed, so different from his usual energy, and she found it nice. Hesitantly, and slowly, she slid a little closer to him. If he noticed he didn't react, so she continued on until she was nearly pressed against him. He didn't so much as glance her way, but his arm wound around her shoulders, pulling her to rest against him, and she sighed in contentment.

This was nice, to be looked after and cared for. She sniffled, battling back a sneezing fit but ultimately failing and tucking her face into the blanket. A blush rose on her cheeks as she continued on, embarrassed yet again at her body's betrayal.

"I'm sorry," she murmured with a sniff after she'd finished.

"It's all right," he responded, finally looking at her. She looked so small huddled in the blanket, her blush standing out harshly against her pale complexion, and he hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well."

"It's my own fault," she argued, ducking her head to sneeze again.

"Still, I don't particularly like seeing you like this."

She froze, misinterpreting the words. Then she was pushing against him, backing away from him and fleeing the loveseat. She stood at the window, hugging herself and trying not to cry. What a fool she'd been to think he actually cared for her. Scrooge himself was confused at the turn of events before realizing how she must have taken his words.

"Magica, no, I didn't mean it like that," he said, approaching her.

"Then how did you mean it?!" she snapped, her voice breaking not only from the tears she couldn't hold in but from the cold developing as well.

"I meant I don't like seeing you ill. It upsets me."

"And why is that?!"

"Because...because I care about you," he admitted. "Why do you think I insisted you come inside?"

"You couldn't handle the guilt of me freezing to death on your lawn," she immediately quipped, though she knew he spoke the truth.

"Blast it, woman, must you be so stubborn?!"

"Of course, where's the fun in compliance?"

He growled in frustration, saved from saying anything further by the click of the door.

"Mrs. Beakley brought you some more tea. Good night," he said stiffly, still irritated.

She winced at his tone, berating herself in her mind. She waited until his footsteps faded to turn around, only to be met with the sympathetic gaze of his housekeeper. She dropped her eyes, the fight going out of her and bone deep exhaustion replacing it.

"Don't mind him," Mrs. Beakley said gently. "He really does care for you, a lot from what I can see."

"So you say," Magica said, coughing soon after.

"Drink this, it will help you sleep." She accepted the cup, the liquid soothing her throat that had just begun to ache. She could taste something in it, medicine most likely, and barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She would have taken it willingly if given the chance. "There now, let's get you in bed, and hopefully by morning you'll feel much better."

She allowed the older woman to assist her, too tired to really refuse, and was asleep nearly before her head hit the pillow, though her thoughts were still on Scrooge and the argument she'd unintentionally caused.

* * *

It was the chills that woke her, the shivers wracking her frame and jarring her awake. She grimaced once she realized what was going on, tucking herself into a tight ball beneath the covers. The fire had died down to embers and she focused on that, hoping the gentle glow would lull her back to sleep. No such luck, as usual, was to be had for her, as she suddenly felt incredibly overheated. Nearly panting, she kicked away the covers, wincing as her body protested, aches making themselves known.

In minutes she was shivering again, and desperately bundling herself back into the quilts, only to repeat the cycle several times. She growled after the sixth time kicking away the blankets, the sound triggering a coughing fit that left her in tears. Gods she hated being sick. She felt weak, and useless, and, the softer part of her would phrase it as just general unpleasantness. She whimpered, flopping back against the mattress and slowly taking stock of her body now that she was completely awake.

She guessed she had a fever if the constant temperature changes were anything to go by, and her throat was killing her, not to mention the coughing, sneezing and aches. In short, she felt like a disgusting mess. She whimpered again, the only sound she could make that both didn't cause her to cough and expressed her misery. She felt awful, and she just wanted to be cared for like Scrooge had done earlier. Pathetic really, but her mind was foggy and it had been so long since someone had offered her help. It had been nice. And then she'd gone and mucked it up by letting her assumptions and mouth run away with her. She regretted that. Perhaps if she'd had some patience the conversation could have gone in a totally different direction, one that deep down she'd love to explore.

Tossing and turning, by now thoroughly uncomfortable and irritated not only with herself but the lack of sleep, she sat up. The room was cooler than she'd expected, though she supposed that could either be attributed to the fever or Scrooge's cheap ways. Regardless of the cause it was unpleasant, and she wrapped a blanket around herself to attempt to warm up. She drew a breath, coughing again and feeling as though her chest was weighed down. Lovely, not only was it a particularly nasty cold but a chest cold on top of it. Surely she was due for a change in luck soon.

She fidgeted where she sat, something else other than her illness bothering her. In her haze it took her longer than it normally would have to figure it out, but finally she drew the conclusion.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispered to the recesses of the room.

Further still, she knew exactly whose company she wanted. Standing, she wrapped the blanket more firmly around herself before venturing into the hall, determined to at least get one thing she wanted.

…**.**

Scrooge hadn't been able to sleep, his conversation with Magica repeating itself. He felt guilty for snapping at her, but when she'd so casually shrugged off his admission his embarrassment took over and the situation quickly grew out of hand. It had been a few hours since he'd stormed out, and although Mrs. Beakley has informed him that Magica was sleeping soundly he couldn't help but worry. He'd never seen her sick before in all the years they'd fought, and the sight wasn't one he wanted to get used to. She was so different from her usual fiery self, so withdrawn and cuddly even. He knew she could be kinder than she let on, softer, but he rarely got to see that side of her. He only wished it were under better circumstances that he was seeing it now.

He'd come so close to admitting that he loved her, and perhaps had she not been so acidic in her replies he would have. He knew it was pointless, that she would never return his affection, but seeing her so vulnerable had made him want to protect her, and along with that admit his true feelings. Perhaps it was for the best, he mused as he stared at the ceiling as he had the past hours. Save himself the humiliation. He'd just resolved to apologize to the witch in the morning when he heard a muffled sound outside his door.

Confused, he grabbed his glasses and robe, rising to see who was skulking around the corridors so early in the morning.

…**.**

Magica stood outside Scrooge's bedroom, shivering but unable to force herself to knock. What had she been thinking? He'd been so angry at her, he most likely wouldn't want her bothering him, not to mention the hour. But she so desperately didn't want to be alone. She had no idea how long she'd been standing and staring at the door, trying to gather the courage to knock when her throat began to tickle. She swallowed, attempting to fight the cough that was trying to force its way from her body. If she couldn't knock she definitely didn't want to alert him of her presence that way. Of course she failed, only able to fight her body for so long before dissolving into a coughing fit she desperately tried to muffle in her blanket.

She'd thought she'd succeeded when the door didn't immediately open and had resigned herself to spending a miserable night in her room when the knob clicked and it began to swing open. Scrooge peered out, obviously having heard her, and she froze, eyes going wide. He hadn't expected to see Magica in the hall, giving a good impression of a deer in headlights, but Scrooge supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Concern once again overwhelmed him as he noticed the faint blush on her cheeks, obviously unrelated to her awkward position, and the shivers running up her spine.

"Magica? Are you alright? Did you need something?"

"I, um, it's ridiculous. Nevermind," she mumbled, unable to admit her reasoning for lurking outside his door.

He was taken aback by how rough her voice sounded, so different from its usual seductive tones, but got over his shock quickly so he could reply.

"Nonsense, if it has you this troubled it isn't ridiculous," he insisted firmly, stepping into the hall with her.

"It um, it's silly but…" she trailed, still unable to tell him.

"But?"

"I just...didn't want to be alone," she whispered, eyes glossing over with tears.

Yet another reason she hated being sick, she got entirely too emotional. Scrooge frowned seeing her holding back tears, earlier spat forgotten and the protective urge surfacing again. Magica hung her head, avoiding his reaction for as long as possible, and so was startled when she felt two fingers gently lift her chin.

"There's no shame in that," he replied gently. "Come here."

Unable to believe he wasn't laughing at her, she numbly stepped forward, nearly going limp when he enveloped her in his arms. Scrooge hugged her gently, mindful that she wasn't feeling well, and walked them both back into his room, shutting the door as he did so. He guided her to the bed, sitting her on the side and pretending not to hear her small whimper when he let her go.

"I'm sorry," her voice floated to him as he once again settled for bed.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"For earlier. I shouldn't have snapped, or jumped to conclusions."

"It's quite alright. I should have been a little clearer with my phrasing."

She smiled at him, happy he wasn't angry anymore, and that he'd silently agreed to allow her to stay with him.

"Patience is something I've yet to learn," she joked, chuckling a little bit wincing when it turned into coughing.

Scrooge was at her side in an instant, hand rubbing her back until the fit subsided.

"That doesn't sound good."

"It doesn't feel too great either," she quipped, leaning against him.

He pulled her tight against his side as he felt the chills wracking her body.

"You've got a fever," he murmured, feeling the heat rolling off her in waves.

"I know." They sat in silence for a few minutes, him rubbing her back. "Scrooge?"

"Hm?"

"I really don't feel good," she confessed in a small voice, finally admitting how miserable she felt.

"I imagine not. Come on, let's get you back in bed."

He tucked her in, making sure the heavy quilt was securely covering her and adding an extra to be safe. She snuggled down immediately, pulling the covers more tightly around her body. He smiled fondly, going to the other side of the bed and climbing in, unsurprised when she latched herself to his side. He winced as she tucked her face against his neck, her skin burning to the touch.

"I retract my earlier statement," he said, shifting to wrap his arms around her. "You don't just have a fever, you're burning up."

"I don't feel like it, I can't get warm," she said, cringing as she shivered.

"It will pass as long as you keep covered," he replied, tugging the blankets into a sort of nest around them. "Better?"

"A little, thank you."

"Of course. I wasn't lying when I said I cared for you earlier." Her eyes widened, shock overcoming her. He might have said it once, but to hear it spoken with such sincerity still shocked her. "I just wanted you to know that."

Perhaps ...perhaps it was time to admit to herself, and him, what she'd known for a long time, and that his concern had only stirred up again.

"Scrooge? I care about you, too," Magica admitted, unable to filter herself any longer, at the same time not wanting to.

Maybe it was time for both of them to stop being so stubborn and to get what they truly wanted. He looked down at her, eyes wide.

"Do you mean to say—?"

She sighed, not in the mood for confusion or misunderstandings.

"Yes, you old fool, I'm in love with you." She jumped as his beak pressed against hers, not having expected the kiss. Getting over her shock she kissed back, not about to lose the moment. "You shouldn't have done that," she panted when they separated. "You'll catch my cold."

"Ah well, hadn't really planned on leaving you alone until you recovered anyway," he said with a shrug.

She snorted, unable to believe his nonchalant attitude.

"You are ridiculous."

"Maybe so."

They settled back down, his arms gathering her to his chest once more. He kissed her forehead as she snuggled back down, sighing in contentment. They could worry about the fever and the cough in the morning, at the moment he only cared that she returned his feelings. She hummed in contentment at the kiss, finally feeling comfortable enough to sleep now that she wasn't alone, and knew he loved her just as much as she loved him. She may be miserable but she knew he'd look after her, and that thought made her smile. As her weight settled against him, Scrooge decided he could definitely get used to holding her, and if he had his way he'd never let her go again. Who knew snow was all that was needed to push them together?

"Goodnight, Magica."

She hummed, already nearly asleep, and pressed a kiss to his neck in response, and the manor was silent, the only sound the wind outside.


End file.
